Wonderful
by JWood201
Summary: I wish I could count to ten, make everything be wonderful again. Seasons 1 and 8.


**Wonderful**

Insert Standard Disclaimer … Here  
Song is by Everclear. Disclaimer for that too.

* * *

A half-empty liquor bottle hurtled through the air and crashed into the closed wooden double doors, followed closely by an empty tumbler, a vase stuffed with a dozen blood red roses, a full tumbler, and a pillow. The last ineffective projectile hit the door with a dull thud and slid to the ground, soaking up the spilled liquor and sugar water that began flowing under the door and out into the hallway, mixing together in psychedelic patterns.

_Hope my mom and I hope my dad  
__Will figure out why they get so mad  
__Hear them scream, I hear them fight  
__They say bad words that make me wanna cry _

The eight year old girl peered tentatively down at the swirling liquid as it seeped into the oriental runner that lined the long hallway then up at the doors as they shook again in persecution when another bottle shattered against the opposite side.

She flinched, sharply sucking in a huge breath, and hurried past the room. She ran around the corner and automatically dropped to the floor, beginning to breathe heavily and raggedly.

On her hands and knees, she quickly scurried under a narrow table positioned against the wall. She ignored the family portrait situated on top – perfect, smiling, whole – as it had become just another routine visual in this coping routine she had constructed for herself months ago.

She hugged her knees to her chest and pressed her back firmly to the wall, closing her eyes.

"One … Two …"

She paused as furious shrieking cut through the momentarily silent hallway. A man's voice bellowed from the room, temporarily silencing the woman before she erupted in a string of obscenities that would make the most seasoned sailor blush.

"Three … Four … Five …"

_I close my eyes when I get too sad  
__I think thoughts that I know are bad  
__Close my eyes and I count to ten  
__Hope it's over when I open them _

"Six … Seven …"

The little girl grimaced and fought to keep her counting steady and under control as a loud slap echoed down the hall and the man suddenly quieted, a shocked silence emanating from his direction.

"Eight …Nine …"

She slowly pried her eyes open as a heavy hush fell suddenly over the house. Her gaze fixated cautiously on the lower part of the door opposite her as she remained concealed under the table. The light was on and a shadow occasionally fell over the crack between door and floor as her little brother wandered around obliviously inside his room.

"Ten."

The little girl smiled at the quiet.

The double doors down the hall suddenly ripped open, hitting the wall with a deafening bang, the voices now louder and clearer and, if possible, angrier.

"One. Two. Three. Four."

She didn't notice that the yelling had stopped as she counted quicker, eyes squeezed shut and small body rocking slightly.

She didn't notice that she had raised her voice considerably to drown out the screaming.

She didn't notice the Manolo Blahniks that paused curiously in front of her table or the body that slowly lowered itself into view.

_Promises mean everything when you're little  
__And the world's so big  
__I don't believe you when you say  
__Everything will be wonderful someday_

The girl's eyes flew open and she jumped in alarm as she felt a gentle hand on her arm. She stared up in horror at the perfectly calm and even slightly concerned face smiling placidly down at her.

"Honey." She softly brushed a red ringlet out of the girl's eyes. "Don't worry. Everything will be wonderful. I promise."

Enraged whispers filtered out of the room through the crack between the heavy double doors and the hardwood floor. Occasionally rising in ire, the nearly out of control voice was then immediately contained by the other. A moment of silence would follow before the disagreement would begin again, crescendo into a low yell, and again be hushed. This pattern repeated itself at least four times as the seventeen year old girl stood fearfully in the hallway, yet not at all surprised by this current argument, both adults having changed considerably in the two years they were apart.

_I don't wanna hear you say  
__You both have grown in a different way  
__I don't wanna hear you say  
__That I will understand someday_

She leapt back in surprise as a heavy bottle smashed against the inside of the door, memories of her childhood immediately flooding back into her consciousness, nearly drowning her. She didn't wait this time to watch the liquor trickle from under the door and soak into the carpet before hurrying away.

She rounded the corner and instinctively fell to the floor, scooting backwards under the table until she hit the wall. Now too tall to sit up against the wall without hitting her head on the table, she dropped her elbows to the floor, staring down at the edge of the oriental carpet. She ignored the more recent family portrait now inhabiting that table – awkward, smiling, not quite whole – taken just a few short weeks ago after the family was finally reunited.

_I don't wanna start over again  
__I just want my life to be the same  
__Just like it used to be_

She studied the intricately woven pattern for a few moments as the discussion intensified again and this time refused to loop again into controlled whispers. Hearing another bottle crash against the door around the corner, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, beginning to impulsively whisper to herself without realizing what she was doing.

"One … Two … Three …"

She dropped her forehead to the carpet, pulling back skillfully into the confines of her mind and partially shutting down, adept from years of practice.

"Four … Five … Six … Seven …"

The teenager cringed slightly as the doors slammed open, voices moving into the hallway and still refusing to lower in volume.

"Eight … Nine …"

She didn't notice that the yelling had stopped, both parties moving off in opposite directions down the long upstairs hallway.

She didn't notice that she had begun counting aloud to keep herself secluded in her own safe psyche.

She didn't notice the body that paused remorsefully in front of her table until she reached "Ten" and cautiously opened her eyes, spotting the pointy toes of a pair of high heels on the carpet directly in front of her.

The teenager slowly lifted her head as the shoes' owner gradually lowered herself into view.

_I just don't understand how  
__You can smile with all those tears in your eyes  
__Tell me everything is wonderful now _

Her face was clear, perfectly devoid of any expression or emotion, trademark serene grin noticeably absent.

"Honey." She softly tucked a red ringlet behind the girl's ear, the faintest hints of moisture encircling her hazel eyes. "Don't worry." Voice lilting with forced self-encouragement, she added with a sad smile, "Everything's wonderful."


End file.
